Wesley Long, Paul Clark and Stephen Acree, members of the Alpha Xi pledge class of the fraternity Phi Delta Theta, paint the rock as part of tradition. All Phi Delta Theta pledges paint the rock six times, one each week, during the pledge process. Painting the rock gives pledges the opportunity to bond with each other, as well as with existing members of the fraternity. / photo by Katherine Careaga

by Julian Burrellphotography by Katherine Careaga

Nearly a hundred students are gathered around the rock in front of Founders Hall. Some are watching, some are taking turns painting the letters of their Greek organization. The iconic school rock is front and center on the lawn, 30 feet from the University president’s office window. The prominent boulder is a landmark, a celebrity stone. To paint it is an important student tradition. Caiti Helsper, new member of Phi Sigma Sigma sorority, holds that feeling as she puts the last yellow touches on the “S” in Sigma. There is pride all around. The decorated rock will bring distinction to the Phi Sigs all day. From behind, a tall bespectacled man in a white lab coat walks by the gathered student group. With brushes still in hand, they are laughing and beaming over the painting. As he draws near, Helsper and her fellow students are not aware of him shaking his head, but they do hear the quiet voice. “Forgive them, for they know not what they do.”

Meet Jay Jones: environmentalist, biologist and lead environmental apologist for the University of La Verne. Jay’s voice and views on harming the biosphere are constantly heard on campus even if his advice is not uniformly heeded. For Jones, Ph.D., and professor of biology and biochemistry, one of the oldest of University traditions is also one of the greatest environmental sins that happens on campus.

“I remember during rock paintings while pledging [Sigma Alpha Epsilon], I was always wondering whether Jay was going to come out of Founders and tell me about how painting the rock was wrong,” says junior radio broadcasting major Patrick Rodriguez. “I know how he is with his environmental views, and I know the rock goes against a lot of them.” Indeed, Jones considers himself a purveyor of environmentalism and believes the University needs to drastically reduce its environmental footprint. Practices to help ease planetary harm, according to Jones, include “carrying your own forks with you and not using plastic plates and cups, like we do in faculty meetings, which shows either ignorance or disregard.” For Jones, the rock is his ecological teaching platform for students. There is an iconic nature in the rock that drives him and his message. “The rock is an environmental hazard at this University,” Jones explains. “It’s one of those small things that we can cut back on without compromising the quality of life.”

For more than 60 years, students have gathered at the rock to paint it. It is a place to announce celebrations, to promote organizations. Past generations remember it as a place of graffiti. Sometimes it was painted and repainted by competing organizations several times before the sun came up. Students in those days guarded the rock all night to ensure their message would still remain in the morning. Now there is a reservation form that puts organizations in queue to ensure their messages are correct and visible for a scheduled number of days. Message pranking is against student life policy. These days, rock painting is a privilege, with rule breakers losing their right to take part in the campus tradition. “It’s something that’s exclusive to our University. It’s one of the first things that you learn about when you come to La Verne. Everyone takes part in rock paintings at one point or another,” says junior Shelby Griffin, history major and vice president of Iota Delta Sorority. “For Greeks, the rock is our thing. I’ve had so many great memories with my sisters at rock paintings. Taking part in such a great tradition is special,” she says.

This University tradition has been long-standing, much to the displeasure of Professor Jones. For at least 20 years, by his count, he has adamantly opposed rock painting for fear that the paint was dripping into the soil and polluting the earth. Jones’ feelings were spurred 15 years ago when one of his students analyzed a soil sample surrounding the base of the rock. “The soil was extremely toxic with things like chromium and lead. [The findings] filtered through the community, and the response was to put an apron around it,” he says. The University of La Verne paid for the three-foot cement apron that circles the rock. “To me that shows a lack of critical thinking,” says Jones. “A catchment would have been the appropriate thing to do. It should come out and have walls. That way, any of the leaching could have been collected and disposed of as hazardous waste. But that’s not what they did. They put a sloping apron around that thing. I mean, come on.”

Where Professor Jones sees an environmental hazard, students see a symbol of their involvement and dedication. “The rock was where I got to meet so many people for the first time at the school,” says freshman international business major Candy Monterroso and I Delt member. “It’s just so happy. Every time there’s a rock painting, I just want to go and meet people who share a lot of the same things that I like.” Jones is not ignorant to the sense of painting pride felt by La Verne students. “Tradition is very important. That kind of activity is of great importance.” Nevertheless, he feels that the University should give up the tradition in order to make up for damage that he believes the rock has caused. “The traditions that an institution chooses say a lot about the institution,” explains Jones. “We should be transforming this practice into something much more constructive and congruent with the University’s values instead of the equivalent of scent marking. [Painting the rock is] kind of a like a coyote pissing on a bush,” Jones laughs.

Dr. Jay Jones, professor of biology and biochemistry, has long spoken of the environmental health hazards posed by painting and repainting the rock. He has extracted paint core samples to gain a sense of how much it has grown in size. He guesses there are about eight inches of paint covering the rock. / photo by Katherine Careaga

He has reduced the effects of rock paintings to specific analysis using his scientific genius. Inside his office, amongst a multitude of microscopes and test beakers, are peeled layers of paint and core samples from the rock. “This one is from about a year and a half ago, so it’s probably gotten much larger by now—probably about twice as thick,” Jones says, holding up a roughly two and a half inch tall pile of circular paint layers held together with scotch tape. Each quarter-sized circular paint disc of paint displays a variety of colors, symbolic of the hundreds of unique rock paintings through the years. Jones frequently takes these rock core samples, extracting them with a tool similar to a cork opener. The device is held up to the side of the rock and twisted until it has reached through all the paint layers to the solid rock surface. He keeps these in his office, ready to display to all who ask. “It’s just to show people and inform them. I really don’t think they understand the damage the paint is doing,” says Jones.

“I just don’t understand why the rock is so important to Jay Jones,” says junior Chelsea Morin, international business major and I Delt member. “It’s not like there aren’t other environmental hazards on campus. I just don’t understand why that’s not the bigger issue.” Jones insists that painting the rock, as a school-sponsored tradition, is the most glaring flaw in the University’s green movement. “The importance of the rock is really its iconic role with regard to the University of La Verne. In some ways, it’s sort of like the Confederate flag. If you’re going to be sensitive about things, you don’t fly the Confederate flag. You don’t honor things that you know are not consistent with your values, and painting the rock is not consistent with our values as an institution.”

Some students have a different view. “This rock painting process honestly has so many more positive aspects to it than negatives. Honestly, it probably does hurt our environment, but it’s for a greater cause,” says junior Evelyn Bobbitt, biology major and I Delt member. “There are a lot of places in the world where the environment is destroyed for other reasons. The concern should be getting the larger sources of damage to our environment stopped. [The rock] is where a lot of development happens and where a lot of connections are made. Really, it’s a tradition that cannot be replaced.” Adds sophomore Jose Serra, SAE member, “It may be damaging to this small piece of land around it, but with all the fun that it brings, is it really worth that much concern?”

Answers Jones: “For the few of us who are really aware of the environmental, it’s a source of pain. If you love this institution, and you really resonate with all of its values, having the image of this institution tied to something like that is painful.” He believes that there are other alternative traditions that could be started, including painting a house for the nonprofit organization Habitat for Humanity or having all of the organizations tend a garden. “The rock shouldn’t be removed,” says Jones. “It should be preserved and perhaps be painted one last time with a clear message: ‘The University of La Verne has moved on to things that are more appropriate for the times.’”

For now, the rock continues to be painted and serves as a place of information and celebration. For Jay Jones, it is a constant nuisance. “I really wonder what he wants to say to me if I ever happen to be painting the rock as he’s walking by,” Serra says. The answer is known by some. “To students that I’ve talked to that I think understand the situation, I’ll just say, ‘You know better than this!’” Jones says. “But for the most part, I’ll just say, ‘Forgive them for they know not what they do.’”

Hidden to the members of the La Verne Church of the Brethren, a sea of solar panels lies on the roof of its Fellowship Hall. The installation of these panels was completed Sept. 21, 2012, and the Church is now almost 100 percent solar powered. / photo by Hunter Cole

by Christina Collins Burtonphotography by Hunter Cole

Glinting in the sunlight, the smooth reflective surface of 70 large panels basks in the sunshine. They have been positioned carefully to absorb the optimum amount of sunlight on top of the Fellowship Hall at the La Verne Church of the Brethren. These panels work everyday to ensure that the Church of the Brethren does not leave a large carbon footprint. While they do not work at night, they are capable of working individually when part of the system is blocked by shade. Looking more like giant blue-black mirrors than a complicated piece of technology, the solar panels provide an alternative method to generate electricity.

Solar power is one type of energy generating source that has been spreading in the city of La Verne. With the most recent large installation on the Church of the Brethren Fellowship Hall rooftop and increasing installation on private homes, the city is starting to look at a sunny future.

Supporting traditions

Near the heart of old town, the La Verne Church of the Brethren calls itself “a progressive church…with a pipe organ.” It is known for its forward thinking acceptance of all persons into worship while still maintaining a sense of tradition. According to its mission statement, the Brethren seek to manage resources wisely, which includes the proper upkeep and enhancement of their facilities. Striving to stay with these ideals, the Church completed its solar panel installation Sept. 21, 2012, making its buildings almost 100 percent solar powered. The system makes 98.7 percent of the electricity the Church uses. Conservation steps, such as constantly turning off lights, offsets the remaining 1.3 percent of energy not generated. The only time the Church has to swap over to use electricity is during fully overcast days or if events take place at night. Then, the Church switches from solar to ground lines and is provided electricity through Southern California Edison. At other times, the excess energy produced goes back to Edison, and the Church reaps the financial benefits.

For six years, Church leadership considered going solar, but their plan for sustainability was put on hold. Then, Daniel Snowden-Ifft, a Church friend, approached former property chair Michael Wolfsen about a possible energy alternative. “Pretty much on the spot, she deputized me to organize a solar subcommittee and to look for others to team it,” Daniel says, laughing. He quickly gathered Church members who not only had a personal interest in solar energy but also had historical knowledge of the Church plant infrastructure. The subcommittee reviewed the pricing and panel placement. Instead of being met with obstacles, they breezed right through the steps. Previous research assisted the committee in finding the needed resources. On top of being fully informed, the dramatic price drop for panels during the six-year period helped make the decision to swap to solar energy a no-brainer. Still, there was money involved, and funding needed to be solved. The panels could not be a financial burden on the Church. Fortunately, the Pacific Southwest District of the Church of the Brethren had just sold property—a second-hand shop. The solar committee requested a loan and received the money with 5 percent interest over 15 years. The Edison solar conversion incentive programs made installation a reality. Following, the Church easily passed the SCE evaluation meaning it could power up on its own energy. Since, it has thrived on solar energy. During the week of March 14, 2013, the Church hit a big milestone and produced its first 100 megawatt hours of electricity. “First light is what we call it,” Daniel says.

Living with solar energy

“Come in, we will use solar energy to light our interview,” says Jay Jones, University of La Verne professor of biology and biochemistry. Jay is a proponent of sustainability and alternative energy usage for everyday life. In 2008, he had a six solar panel system installed on a second story above his Upland home garage. At that time, his system purchase and installation cost an estimated $40,000. His electricity bill is now mere dollars a month, and only once has he had to pay more than $100 for a monthly bill when the system needed panels replaced. Jay was taken aback by the high bill because his solar panel system kept his payments so low.

Deborah Olson, associate professor of management and leadership at La Verne, also had panels installed on her home. Her 22, 240 watt panels went live Jan. 3. The system cost about $23,000, but with rebates from the state and the federal net return, the Olsons were able to gain back 30 percent on their investment. “We are committed to doing this from an environmental standpoint but also for expenses,” Deborah says. Southern California Edison offers rebates for converting homeowners. With its net energy metering, solar owners receive credit for electricity produced. “The procedure is pretty complicated; if you want the rebate, they have to come out, and you have to outline your specific equipment,” Jay says. When he had his equipment evaluated, his 200 watt panels were only accredited for around 175 watts of energy. The state of California has rated all the panels and does not take the panel wattage at face value. If the owner does not have a southward facing slope on her home, it will evaluate the difference in expected electricity and actual electricity produced. After the evaluation and rebate process, the solar panels are in the hands of their owners to ensure they are working properly. Regular cleanings of the panels are usually necessary. “I could probably increase my productivity by 10 percent if I cleaned them regularly,” says Jay. Since their installation in 2008, he has cleaned his panels twice. Regular cleaning partnered with solar strength makes for high productivity and a better chance toward gaining SCE rebates.“I’m enough of a geologist to know that the possibility of an earthquake is significant. Every time I’m up on a tall ladder, I really don’t like the thought,” he says, shaking his head. Deborah and her husband have a different cleaning regiment for their panels. “Usually, we just hose it down once a week because dust and stuff gets on top of it. We have a one-story house so it is easy.”

Solar installations began to rise about three years ago, according to La Verne’s city principal building inspector John Petty. “Last year was a slight slump, at least for this jurisdiction, but we are seeing it go right back up on the rise again.” He credits the slump and rise to the state of the economy and the incentive programs that have been endorsed by the state. DRH Solar and electrical has installed 16 solar panel systems for La Verne residents alone since including solar energy as an option in 2011. Owner Dan Herrig says that his first experience with installing solar came when a customer asked whether he had done previous solar work. Besides DRH, Solar City and Durango Solar have also been installing solar panel systems in La Verne. The city has also made it easy for home owners to get the panels installed and running. After submitting a request to the Planning Department, customers can usually expect a quick response, with a permit granted after a structural inspection. This inspection looks at the structural integrity of the house since the panels require a sloped surface. Also, the inspection ensures that if any emergencies happen, such as a fire, the panels will not be in the way or add to the destruction of the house.

Every morning as La Verne’s solar panels are struck with the first light of the day, the city of La Verne’s carbon footprint becomes smaller. With more homes gaining solar panels, the city of La Verne works toward a brighter future.

After the sun’s rays are sucked into the solar panel, the energy from those rays is sent to the solar inverters. Known as Sunny Boys, these inverters take the direct current from the panels and convert it into alternating current. These currents are fed into an electrical grid and used to power the Church of the Brethren. / photo by Hunter Cole